On My Mind
by piratesmiley
Summary: Peter/Olivia. "She held out for roughly thirty-six hours, and then she led him home." Companion to Turn On My Lights.


A/N: Companion/epilogue type thing for my last story Turn On My Lights.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe.

* * *

_Take my lips and place them upon you,  
Catch my eyes and let them design you,  
Grab these arms and wrap them around your love,  
Shake these hips and let them persuade you_  
--Leona Naess, Unnamed

--

i. the next night

Anticipation.

She asked him over to her place the next night, because seeing him every hour of the day after what they had just decided was driving her wild. She held out for roughly thirty-six hours, and then she led him home.

She started out nervous, and ended up wanting to drink some more, but he told her no, she was going to want to be sober for this, and _he_ led _her_ upstairs.

He's a genius, so of course he ended up being right.

--

ii. the next week

It was turning out awkward, but he still came to her place every night and she gladly invited him, with their clothes usually ending up scattered across the house; it made an interesting early morning dash for Peter, but hell, he didn't mind one bit.

They toed around the subject of _what in the world are we doing?_ for close to seven days but then Peter asked her out on a true date and she said yes. He made her laugh too many times to count, and he was enamored by her wit and silent nuances. They were fresh; this was new, but they got over it.

--

iii. one month

A familiar pattern. One sprung from a dangerous, deadly other—how ironic.

They were growing comfortable, although they still hid: Walter was convinced that Peter was out at strip clubs or doing other untoward things all hours of the night, and nobody else at work had accused them of anything but professional, most likely because they were treating each other the same way they usually did—to the untrained eye.

If people were really watching, though, that's where it got interesting. You got the usual—him teasing her, her taunting him, sexual frustration that always happened when two good-looking, compatible people entered a room—but there was more. Small touches, sweet glances. Always looking to him for comfort. Always looking to her for a reprieve.

They fit well, and they had this plan under control. For now.

--

iv. three months

Every couple has problems.

It's irrational to expect everything to be perfect and dandy in a relationship, even with the two most suited for each other.

They fight sometimes, mostly about work (because what else is there), mostly about him protecting her where she can protect herself. He wants to take care of her; he feels she deserves it. But she obviously feels differently.

They fight, but they always end up crawling back, because in this environment, neither Peter nor Olivia can afford to be alone.

--

v. six months

This relationship has lasted longer than any one he'd ever been a part of before. He tells her so when they go out on their six month anniversary, and she smiles happily, because she didn't expect to get another relationship like the previous.

And she didn't actually; _this_ relationship wasn't filled with lies, although she had expected it to be, what with Peter's slightly shady past.

But once they developed a certain amount of trust (she pegged that stage around month four), he started to tell her lots of things, about past and present and future, adding his thoughts and memories as a cushion for her to throw her own out there.

She was grateful for it.

--

vi. one year

When the day rolls around, they both confess to being surprised. Surprised that they made it this far.

See, Peter didn't have much faith in…anything, and he didn't put much stock in romantics. Ever the realist, he usually relied on women for sexual release and nothing more.

And Olivia, was fairly new, with encounters far too few with too much time in between. She liked to say so wasn't a romantic either, but that was a lie.

But none of those things mattered anymore; they had let go of all the things that had impaired them in the past to make way for this new chance they were taking.

It was paying off.

--

vii. two years, six months, three weeks and a day

A proposal.

It's not cheesy; it's not cookie-cutter perfect. It's unexpected, but she's not surprised.

He doesn't get down on one knee because he knows she'd hate it. Instead he corners her like he did on that incredibly memorable day-after encounter and he placed the soft velvet box on her palm, not letting her move until she told him what she wanted.

She loved him. There's no other way to describe it, and damn, there was nothing holding her back now, so she said yes.


End file.
